


(Don't) Come Back For Me

by BammBamm



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Canon-Typical Behavior, Dysfunctional Family, Emotional Manipulation, F/M, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Molly's Mother - Freeform, Multiple Relationships, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, POV Molly Graham, POV Multiple, POV Will Graham, Post-Canon, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb, Recovery, Slow Burn, Tags May Change, Will Graham and Hannibal Lecter are separated after the fall
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-23
Packaged: 2020-10-18 02:15:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 6,946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20631428
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BammBamm/pseuds/BammBamm
Summary: After their encounters with the Dragon, Molly and Will try to move on with their lives. As they fight to get back to normal, they both realize that much more has changed than either of them is willing to admit.Or Will and Hannibal are separated after The Fall, and Will returns home a much different man than the one that left.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, welcome! Just a heads up - if you catch this while I'm still posting, the relevant relationships are tagged, but this will be a slow(ish) burn.  
Inspired by Jaymes Young's "Come Back For Me".   
This story is un-betaed

__

_Oh, whatever you do_  
_Don't come back for me_  
_After all I've bled for you_  
_I can hardly breathe_  
_And one more kiss_  
_Could take my life_

_-Jaymes Young _

“Ma… Mom!”

“Hmm?” Molly turned away from the cheerful jumble of cereal boxes.

“That lady is trying to get past you.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Molly turned, shielding her bound arm. The older woman behind her smiled sheepishly as she reached for the box of Cheerios in front of Molly’s face. 

“That’s all right, sweetheart. There really are too many things to choose from. Last week it took me ten minutes just to find the milk!”

“Yes,” Molly laughed amiably, “they say oat is the thing now. But, I don’t know what that means.” 

“It can get confusing. It is important to take care of ourselves the best we can, though,” the lady replied, her eyes flicking to the scarring above Molly’s eye.

Heat pooled on Molly’s cheeks as she dipped her chin into her collar. 

“Well, have a good day,” she mumbled, dumping the closest box it into her cart without looking as ushered Wally to the checkout.

* * *

“The doctor said if you’re having trouble concentrating, it might be time to adjust your medication.” 

The car ride had been blissfully silent, Wally’s face deep in the cell phone Molly had sworn never to buy him. He was still buried in the device, eyes fixed on the scrawl of images on the screen. The performance was well done, but Molly knew he was watching her more than the parade of images on his phone. 

Molly silently counted to five before answering. 

“Oh yeah, is that what the doctor said?” she asked with as much cheer as she could muster. “What else did the doctor say?” 

“That you shouldn’t talk to me like I’m a kid.” Wally sighed, his gaze never leaving the phone. 

“I would never do that. Okay, buddy? You’re one of the smartest people I know of any age. If ever say or act any differently, you just tell me, okay?” 

“Mmhm,” Wally hummed.

“And thanks for looking out. But I’m only taking medication for my shoulder now, and only once a day. So there’s nothing to worry about, okay?”

“Sure, mom.”

She winced only slightly as her grin spread bright and warm. Progress.

* * *

“Is this really the best idea?”

“Why would it be it be a bad idea, Deborah?”

Molly's mother turned to close the bedroom door with an unnecessary level of care that grated on Molly’s nerves. 

“Well, Margaret, do you really think your... he should be coming back here so soon?”

“You mean my husband? This is his home. I'm not sure where else you think should go." Molly checked the wall clock. Only three hours since her last pain pill. Fuck.

"Right," Deborah smiled. "You are married... Even though I wasn't there..."

Molly closed her eyes for a moment, refusing to take the bait.

"What are you getting at? He was injured on the job. That's it. It's not exactly unheard of in law enforcement."

"That is true."

"Then I'm not sure where this ‘is this a good idea' business is coming from. He's being released from the hospital, so he's coming home." She sighed, the edges of pain spreading as she smoothed out the bed sheet. The doctor had told her to start spending more time out of the sling to help with mobility. And while going about a week’s worth of laundry may be pushing the limits, she loved the freedom of being out of that sling. 

“After the two of you were nearly killed by his… job,” Deborah waved her hand in the air. 

“You mean the three of us, right? And why are you saying 'job' like that? He’s a criminal profiler. That is actually a thing.”

“You don’t have to get testy with me, Margaret. Who dropped everything to come here and help you two these past few weeks? A little appreciation wouldn’t hurt—”

“—All right, all right, you’re right.” Molly held up her hands in a sign of surrender. 

Weeks ago, Molly had been alone and afraid in a hospital bed. Her and Wally needed somebody, anybody to help. Her husband was out of commission, everyone he worked with seemed to have worse judgment than the next, and Molly didn’t have many friends in the area. Nobody could tell her where Will had gone, only that he went after the man who attacked them. When he finally washed up on the side of a river nearly a week later, no one could tell her much more. Only that the man they called the Dragon was dead, that her husband was alive but unconscious, and that the serial killer Hannibal Lecter had somehow escaped. 

How those all had anything to do with each other, Molly still wasn't sure.

It had been years since Molly and her mother had been in the same room together. She wasn’t exactly sure how long, long enough to soften some of the edges. Long enough that in the throws of panic, calling her mother seemed like a good idea. And despite the strain, the relief she felt when her mother first walked into her hospital room to take her hand had been genuine.

After nearly a month and many missing liquor bottles later, the reunion had started to wear thin. 

_1 … 2 … 3 … 4 … 5 …_

“You’re right… You’re right. I know you’re just helping.”

“That’s all right, sweetie,” Deborah sat on the flattened bed sheet, creating a gathering of wrinkles Molly was going to have to fix later. “It just doesn’t... _seem_ decent, him playing around with all those scary men. It just seems so… foul. Did you see what that one paper was saying about him?”

“Tattle Crime is not a real paper.” 

Deborah stood, gathering Molly’s hands in hers. 

“Mom, what the—”

“—Maybe you’re right, Molly. I mean, the things they said… that he was possessed by all those killers, that that’s how could catch them. That him and that…_ creature_ , that cannibal, were somehow connected—”

“—It’s a gossip magazine. If you believe what they say, then maybe you believe in alien abductions, or—”

“—no, I know that, sweetheart. That’s what I told Bob, I said ‘Bob, don’t listen to that crazy Freddie Lounds character. Margaret would never go off and get herself and married to some sort of killer homosexual. She’s too pretty and smart—”

“—You’re hurting me.” She started to pull her hands away, but Deborah only gripped tighter, her eyes shining brightly as the bones in Molly’s hand ached for release.

“Listen to me, Margaret. You may be right about that Tattle Crimes. But what about all the other papers? What about the time he was in jail? They let him out, but are ALL the things they said about him wrong, Margaret?”

The knock on the door came quickly before Wally entered, his eyes flitting between his mother and grandmother.

“Ma, can we have one of the pizzas for dinner?”

The grip against Molly’s hands loosened enough for her to pull away. She took a step towards Wally, putting some distance between her and the older woman.

“Of course, Wally. I’ll be down in just a minute to—”

“—It’s okay. I can do it.” The door shut neatly behind him with an easy click. 

“I hope you like pizza.”

“Margaret, I’m not done—”

“—Molly, Mom. It’s Molly.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will wakes up in the hospital.

__

_There's a dark room inside of my head_  
_Developing images I'd rather forget_  
_You laced your tongue with a poison_  
_And it makes me remember... _

_What is this?.. _  
_I don’t know what this is._  
_The last thing I remember...he was in my arms._  
_With me._  
_For a brief moment, we were flying._  
_And then we were falling._  
_Together._  
_We were flying._  
_And then we were falling, certain the rocks and water would take us under._  
_My arms gripped around him tighter, both of us bringing the other closer and I felt the warmth of his lips against my skin._  
_We were flying. We were flying, together. Together, with nothing and no one in between us._  
_We were flying, and then…_

_Nothing._

* * *

Will didn’t need to open his eyes to know something is wrong. His clothes were too warm, the smells too antiseptic, and his arms too empty. 

The room beeped and hummed around him. He’d been here before. Maybe not this exact room, but he’d been here before. In a hospital bed, flat on his back, his body wracked and broken. 

Carnage in the wake of Hannibal Lector. Except this time—

Will fought the wave of grief that threatened to ruin his facade of sleep. He wasn’t supposed to end up here. Not this time. 

The restraints rubbed against his wrists without him moving much, their settings perhaps more restrictive than necessary. The material was soft, so… not metal. It was not a punishment… Likely for “his own good”. A man like him was hardly stable. They all knew that. 

Why else would they keep asking him to do their dirty work for them?

He heard a shuffle of feet around him and a pen scratching against a clip board. A nurse, or some sort of medical personnel coming to check on him. If they cared, they could probably tell he was awake based on his vital signs. 

It was petty, really, to refuse to open his eyes. But Will wasn’t ready to face the world yet. 

He knew if he opened his eyes, there wouldn’t be much worth seeing. 

“Hey Carol, are you done in here? I need some help over in room 403. I need an extra hand getting this guy onto his side.”

“Yeah, just give me a second. I like spending time with my favorite patient.”

“What, this guy? What’s so great about him? He’s comatose, restrained, and hardly has any family.”

“I know… My favorite.”

“Well, I hate to break up the love-fest, but... I’m pretty sure he has a wife. So _now_, will you help me with the guy in 403?”

“All right, all right, I’m coming.”

Will waited until he heard the click of the door before he let the hot, wet tears that stung his eyes fall onto the pillow behind his head. 

* * *

Days or weeks passed. Will wasn’t too sure. The parade of how’s, why’s, and what’s all came to ‘visit,’ pestering him about the slain Dragon and missing prisoner.

“Missing?” 

“Yes, Will. Missing. But don’t worry, we’ll catch him.”

_No you won’t._

Apparently, Alana and Margot had left town in the midst of it all. No one would tell him how they were doing, or where they were. But Will knew they were alive and well. If anything had happened to them, that would be the first thing they would say to him, grinding his face into what should be another failure, another casualty from his inability to follow protocol.

_This is all I ever wanted for you, Will._

“—they say they can get everything to the new house in one afternoon.”

_For both of us._

“The price isn’t too bad, either.”

_Stay with me, Will._

“The guy on the phone was kind of a prick, but I’ve dealt with worse. I can take ‘em.”

_Where else would I go?_

“Will?”

Will blinked, his eyes focusing on Molly’s form in front of him. He squinted away from the sunlight and Will wondered how long they had been sitting in the courtyard. The garden across from them was bright and cheery. Will resented their simplicity.

“That was a joke… Not a very good one, I guess.” Molly pushed the hair from her eyes, her right hand trailing from her brow to adjust the sling around her neck.

“I’m sorry,” Will started to smile before he felt the sharp tug of stitches on his cheek. “The medication, it, uh…”

“They got you on the good stuff, huh? Well, you should enjoy the ride before they switch you down to the aspirin,” Molly smiled before letting the expression drop. She hid it well, but Will still saw the wash of pain as her skin stretched across her face. 

Will shifted, lifting his hand to touch her cheek. Even through the haze of drugs, he could see her muscling through the pain. That didn’t diminish her beauty any. 

“Where’s Wally?” Will asked as she turned her face to kiss his palm. 

“He’s, uh… with Deborah…”

Will sat up in his seat, shifting off of his right side. 

“Wait…”

“I know.”

“Your _mother_ is here?”

“I know. Don’t ask me why… blame it on the Valium, I guess.”

Molly had called her to ask for help. And would probably never admit it. Will looked at his hands, wishing he could pour the guilt into them and wash it away. 

“How long is she staying?”

“Oh, I don’t know,” Molly laughed. “She was pretty excited about me asking for her help. She likes seeing my weakness, I think. It was supposed to be just a few weeks, until… anyway, here’s hoping it stays that way. Once the movers bring everything we need from the old place and you’re back home, there won’t be much reason for her to stay.” Molly leaned back in her chair, her hand coming back up to adjust her sling. 

“If she makes you feel better…”_don’t fuck this up,_ “if she makes you and Wally feel safer,” _don’t fuck this up you, fucking coward, _ “she can stay as long as you want. And when she doesn’t…” _you better say the right thing, you fucking coward, _“we’ll just kick her out.”

Will smiled, allowing the sharp pain from his cheek to radiate, bringing tears to his eyes. 

“Thank you, Will,” Molly leaned forward, kissing him softly on the lips. 

Will pressed his lips to hers, inhaling her scent as he reminded himself to close his eyes. 

“It will be great to have you home again. In the new home… Then we can all get back to normal and forget that any of this happened.” Molly stood, gathering her things to take Will back to his room. 

Will nodded, pushing himself out of his seat with his right arm, the pain screaming through his body. 

“It will, Molly. It will.”


	3. Chapter 3

On her eighteenth birthday, when Molly’s mother admitted she had spent most of her college fund, Molly didn’t cry or argue. She went to her room, packed what she could carry, and left before dawn. A month after Wally’s father died, Molly made the arrangements and moved her and Wally from dry summers of Arizona to the northeast because she knew deep down it was right for their family. 

And the first night Will came over for dinner, they had barely made it past the salad before she knew he would be a part of their lives for good. 

Throughout her life, she had several names and lived several lives. But one thing remained the same: once she made up her mind, Molly didn’t hesitate to make a move, no matter how it looked from the outside. She was decisive, almost to a fault. It was one of the things Will said he loved about her.

Except for food. She didn’t have too many opinions about food. 

‘As long as it’s hot and salty, I’m good,’ was her usual refrain. Will seemed to like that, too. 

He would always laugh and shake his head, his curls catching the light in the way that made her belly warm. In those moments, they were happy. 

From the outside, it likely seemed reckless to move so soon after the incident. But once Wally had come home from school and asked her what a ‘murder husband’ was, Molly knew it was time for them to leave, appearances be damned. The Outer Banks of North Carolina were a far cry from the forests of the New England, but the weather was nice, there was fishing for Will, and most importantly, no one knew them there. Apparently the neighborhood gossips in their current neighborhood weren’t as ‘understanding’ as Deborah. 

“I start high school next year, anyway. It’s not like I wouldn’t be at a new school,” Wally mumbled when she asked what he thought about the move. 

“Of course, Wally bear, I know that, but… these past few weeks have been a lot and I don’t want to make this any harder than it has to be.”

“Is Will coming with us?”

Molly schooled her expression the best she could. “The doctors want him to stay in the hospoital a little longer, but once he’s out, yes. We’re a family, Wally. We’d all go.” 

* * *

1… 2… 3… 4… 5… 

Molly counted out the white pills on the counter as she steadied the phone against her ear. Fourteen. This refill only had fourteen. Something the doctor said about not wanting her to become to reliant on the prescription to manage her pain. 

_But what if the pain isn’t manageable?_

_Just give it time, _her doctor said. _Physical therapy can work wonders._  


‘Fuck you,’ Molly wanted to say to the sad little pills as she balanced the phone against her ear. She scooped them back into the bottle save the last, which she started to wash down with a glass of water before thinking better of it and reaching for the whiskey. At least that one hadn’t been “lost” by her mother yet. Molly opened the bottle and brought it to her lips, telling herself it would be silly to dirty a glass just for this. Everyone else was in bed, and Will would only laugh if he could see her now. 

At least, he would have, before. 

“I’m sorry, Molly,” he said over the phone. 

“No, you don’t have to apologise, just… explain it to me like I’m stupid. I thought they said you could leave by the end of the week. We have everything set up for you here.” Molly gritted her teeth at the memory of arranging the move with her mother’s constant suggestions. “Why do they need you to stay in Baltimore a whole other week?”

“The doctors want me to stay for a few more days and then… Then there are just a few more things we need to tie up.”

“Who’s ‘we,’the FBI? Will, you nearly died. _We_ nearly died. What more could Jack Crawford want?”__

_ _A wet nose pressed against Molly’s leg as Randy let out a soft whine. After the dogs’ trip to the vet, he had only become more attached. Molly gave them what attention she could, but what they really needed was Will. They all needed Will. _ _

_ _“It’s not Jack Crawford. There are just a few loose ends.”_ _

_ _“You mean that psycho?” The whiskey burned as she took another sip._ _

_ _“No, that… no… he fell off a cliff with a gunshot wound, Molly. I think that ‘loose end’ is eaten up already by the fish in the bay.”_ _

_ _“You think?”_ _

_ _“I know.”_ _

_ _“Well, I doubt the fish would be that desperate.” Molly tried wiped her hand on the side of her jeans as Randy became more insistent, his nose pressing into her palm. _ _

_ _“It’s just paperwork and red tape, I promise. Then I can come home. And, please… I don’t want you to worry about coming all this way to get me. I can just get a cab back from the airport.”_ _

_ _“Wait, what? You don’t have to do that, Will. I’ll come and get you.”_ _

_ _“I figured you’d be relieved you wouldn’t have to make the drive.”_ _

_ _“We could work something out. Besides, the cab fare from the airport would be insane.”_ _

_ _“You don’t worry about that.”_ _

_ _“Ah, that’s right,” Molly said as she paced their new living room “If I’d known almost getting killed by the FBI was so lucrative, I would have tried it years ago.”_ _

_ _Will’s laugh danced across the phone lines and Molly smiled in kind. “I miss you,” she let out, the sound more pathetic than she wanted. _ _

_ _“I miss you, too, Molly. God, I miss you.“_ _

_ _“Well, uh… you do what you need to do, Mister. I told you I’d be here. That hasn’t changed. I haven’t changed,” she said as the painkiller eased the throb in her shoulder. _ _

_ _“I love you.”_ _

_ _“Love you, too. See you in a week.” Molly hung up before curling up on the couch, the bottle still in hand. “You may as well get up here, too,” she said before Randy joined her, his tail wagging. _ _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey there! Thanks for stopping by; I hope that you're happy and healthy. To those of you who read the first part of the story, welcome back! We've only just begun!! :D


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Will manages some loose ends in Baltimore

The story of Jack Crawford was a tragedy. At least, it was to the people in suits who came to visit Will while he lay in the hospital. 

Interrogate, he reminded himself. They were there to interrogate.

There was a lot to celebrate about the demise of the Red Dragon. He was caught, his head on a spike for all to see. Captured and killed by the cunning minds at the F.B.I. 

That was the story they told. It was much easier to sell that than try to explain the dead hospital workers, a compromised field agent or a missing prisoner. 

Correction: dead prisoner. Hannibal Lecter was missing, presumed dead based on the evidence at hand. 

Outside the walls of the Behavioral Science Unit, Jack Crawford was retiring, taking a well-deserved bow after many years of impeccable service to live out the rest of his days in peace. Inside the walls of the BSU, everyone knew. This was yet another example of Jack Crawford throwing protocol to the wind to catch his guy. He and Will were similar in that way.

The blood-soaked corpse of Frances Dolarhyde served as a well-earned feather in Crawford’s cap. But the spectre of Hannibal loomed large over the halls of the F.B.I., even if the public didn’t know any better. 

So, Will was stuck with the lovely men and women in their boring black suits asking him the same stupid questions over and over as he stared at the ceiling, answering their questions and praying the Vicodin would take him under. 

“… the evidence shows that that Hannibal Lector perished along with Francis Dolarhyde, the man otherwise known as the Tooth Fairy. If we have any other reason to believe that is not the case, we will behave accordingly.”

“And his remains?” Will looked towards the most recent suit. She looked bright, ambitious.

“The search for the remains of Hannibal Lector will continue until the end of the week. Beyond that, recovery of the remains of the prisoner will not take top priority.”

* * *

“I thought you would have more common sense, Bedelia,” 

“What sense would that be, pray tell,” Bedelia answered as she opened a fresh bottle of wine. Will had never been inside her kitchen before. Somehow it was exactly how he imagined it would be: nearly as expensive as Hannibal’s but without the soul. 

“A preservation instinct. You were on his list… You have the wherewithal and the means. Some would even say you have a certain… intelligence about you,” Will wrinkled his nose as his eyes scanned over her porcelain skin. 

“Thank you for your… observations, Will. As always, your insights continue to fascinate me,” she said as she brought the burgundy drink to her lips. “Is that your personal observation, or is this one you share with your colleagues?”

“Are you concerned about the FBI or Hannibal?”

Bedelia smiled, her lacquered lips stretching into a tight expression. “I certainly doubt that if the FBI had any concern on my behalf that they would have sent you. You have not exactly been sanctified by that community.”

Will sighed as he walked closer to Bedelia, his steps slow but sure. He watched the whites of her eyes grow larger and she fought the urge to take a step back. Stubborn to a fault. If this were any other scenario, if she were a different woman and if Will were a different man, he would admire her for it. 

“Are you calling me an errand boy, Bedelia?” he asked, pulling the bottle out of her reach. He wanted her clear-headed for this. “Who’s errand boy do you think I am?”

“Not Jack Crawford’s. I can't imagine he has quite the same influence as before now that—”

“—Now that he left his toys out in the rain? We’ve all come home, Bedelia.”

“Most. Not all.” 

Bedelia stiffened as she lifted her chin to meet Will’s eyes. The smell of her delicate perfume filled Will’s nostrils, and underneath that, he could almost swear he could smell something else, something acrid and sharp. 

The smell of fear. 

“Are you here to prepare the meat?” Bedelia’s tongue lingered on the end of her words, the harsh ’t’ reminding Will of harsh waves crashing against rocks. 

Is that what Will wanted? He had to admit, standing there, in her beautiful home, surrounded by her expensive, lush things, Will couldn’t help the urge he felt to dash her against something hard. To see if she was as soft and delicate as she looked, or if she would splinter like the hard, brittle thing Will knew her to be. 

How would that feel to watch the life leak slowly from her eyes, to know that she finally got what she deserved?

Will took a step back, allowing his mind and senses to clear of her overwhelming presence. 

Empty. Right now, alone, watching Bedelia die, it would somehow feel… unfinished. Will shook his head as he pinched the bridge of his nose. 

“No, Bedelia. I lack the… expertise that you truly deserve. I came here to see if you’ve had any visitors as of late.”

“Ah,” she breathed as she opened her palms to gesture to her room. “As you can see, you are the only guest I have entertained recently.”

“Yes, yes, I see that.”

“I’m sorry to disappoint.”

“Being in your presence does many things, Bedelia. Disappoint is never one of them. I’ll see myself out,” he said as he turned towards the front door. Something about the room, her voice, all of it set his teeth on edge. The feel of the cool air against his skin was a welcome balance to the chaos he felt inside. It wasn’t much, but it kept him from vibrating out of his skin as he headed to his rental car.

* * *

“Will!” Jimmy exclaimed. He froze in his tracks, nearly dropping the entire contents of his cup as his hand gripped the paper mug tight. His eyes darted over the stitches on Will’s face. They wandered over the obvious wounds before darting over the rest of his body, his curiosity wondering what other wounds of Will’s he could not see.

If he wasn’t so tired, Will might have laughed at the display. 

“Hi, Jimmy,” he answered. 

“Will!” another voice called from across the room. 

“Hello, Brian,” Will said without looking. It was nice they were still working together. After all the years and fuck-ups the department had gone through, it was nice to know they had had kept their jobs. 

None of the carnage was either of their faults.

“What, uh. You’re up and walking! But, uh… do you still work here?” Jimmy asked, his face screwed into concerned confusion. “I mean, I don’t mean to be rude, I just—”

“—do you still work here?” Brian interjected. He had no such qualms about propriety. 

“Did I ever work here?” Will answered, stepping deeper into the lab. He tried to offer his best comforting smile, but it only reminded his wounds, so he stopped. But there was a comfort in these walls. Even though they contained endless stories of anguish and death, there was something… comforting about the steel walls. Like the shame and anguish of the crimes that brought them all here were somehow sanitized. It diluted the pain, the antiseptic making it more palatable. “And yes, I am still alive, thank you.” 

“Good, good, I am so glad to hear that,” Jimmy said. He stepped in closer, unthinking as his arms spread wide. “I know we were never a very hands on group, but…” 

“Oh, uh… thank you,” Will said, giving out his hand to shake. The disappointment that passed over Jimmy’s face was unmistakable, but Will allowed it. The affection was an empty gesture, speaking more to the person Jimmy imagined him to be than the person Will was, but Jimmy probably didn’t want to know who exactly Will was. 

Brian coughed as Jimmy took Will’s outstretched hand, shifting the air in the room. 

“So, what brings you back, Will? It’s not like you need the money,” he laughed. 

It was crude, but it was true. Over the years, Will had developed a valuable set of skills that paid him while his tastes had remained simple. Add on a few settlements for wrongful imprisonment and injury on the job, and Will didn’t have to worry much for money. Sure, it was nothing compared to what Hannibal had, but it was more than most people couple ask for.

_One does not require money to have taste, Will._  
Is this about my aftershave again?  
Can you blame me? I do not wish to be discourteous, but the aroma takes up so much room, I feel the need to defend myself. 

The pain in Will’s cheek throbbed, and he curled his fingers in his pockets. Touching the scar wouldn’t make the pain go away. 

“I won’t be long. I just had to get some copies of old files.”

“Really? Can’t they just leave you alone?” Jimmy asked, his face contracted in disgust.

Will laughed as he shook his head. “You’re right. And I don’t know. But I’m here now, and I can tell you both sincerely…” Will looked around, taking in the lab: the clean, shiny corners, the labeled files, the tools in their perfect places. “Once I leave, I don’t ever plan on coming back.”

“Then we must make sure we’re thorough, then won’t we?” Jimmy said as Will nodded in response. 

Will had no idea what exactly he was looking for as he searched through old files and evidence. A clue, a hint, something that would give him some answers about what happened that night on that blood-soaked cliff. Maybe to better help the F.B.I find the answers they needed. That’s what he told himself. But as the hours passed and his eyes became dry and the pull of stitches grated on his nerves, he realized that he stayed for the answers he needed. 

_You just came here to get the old scent._

“We don’t usually keep evidence up here, you now,” Brian’s grating voice cut into Will’s thoughts.

“What?” he asked, rubbing his hand over his eye. 

“We don’t usually keep everything up here. This is all just stuff we pulled from the Ripper case when… when…”

“When we used him for an ongoing case,” Will offered. 

“This is mostly old stuff. It’s all about to go up to storage, actually.”

“Right,” Will looked around the space, the remnants of Hannibal the Cannibal tucked away into neat and tidy boxes. “You know, I’m probably just getting in the way. I should probably—”

“—Well, it was good to see you, Will. I’m glad you’re not, you know, dead.” Brian offered before heading back to his work. That was as close to a sign of affection as he would get from Brian. Will waited for the feeling of gratitude or… something to swell inside him. Instead, he felt nothing but the nagging thought it was time for him to leave. 

Will turned, his eye catching a glimmer of light just as he was about to leave. His hands moved before his mind did, the small evidence bag slipping under his jacket before Jimmy or Brian could see. 

“Take care, guys,” he said as he walked past their work stations. 

“You too, Will. Really take care of yourself. You deserve it,” Jimmy answered, his voice so sincere it nearly made Will’s teeth ache. 

“I will, Jimmy. Thanks.”

And with that, Will left the halls of the BSU and the FBI for what he knew was the last time. 


	5. Chapter 5

The Outer Banks weren’t Molly’s first choice. Too many bugs for her liking. But it was different enough and similar enough from their snowy forest cabin that Molly figured it was as good a place as any. She had considered moving to a larger town, or even a city, but the noise made her feel more claustrophobic than usual. Besides, if Wally hated it here, they could always pack up and try some place else.

Molly ran over her reasoning over and over in her head as she waited for Will to come home from the airport. Knowing that he would be there soon filled her with an anxiety that she couldn’t explain. He would love it here. He would. He would love it, Wally would come to love it, and everything would go back to normal. Then they would all be together and everything could go back to normal. Molly kept repeating the words to herself like an incantation this as she fussed over every speck of dirt in their sparsely furnished home. Wandering from room to room, she wished she had insisted on making the drive to the airport. It would have given her something to do besides waiting around for Will to arrive like a nesting housewife. But Will had insisted on driving himself from the airport.

It was her idea to send her mother out to pick up Wally from school so they could grab some dinner together. She made up an excuse about getting to know the area better, but the truth was she didn’t want to overwhelm Will with the new home and Deborah all at once if she could help it. It didn’t hurt that her mother had been complaining about not getting enough alone time with her grandson.

“Well, when is Will supposed to get here?” Deborah asked as she was getting her things to head out the door.

“I’m not sure, Mom. I think he said he would have to take a few stops on his way back. You won’t miss anything,” Molly lied.

Alone, Molly wandered the quiet halls of their new home, letting the tips of her hand brush against the walls. The paint color was a boring white neither of them would have picked. But with time, they could fix that. They could even try the same color scheme as before. The walls in the cabin had been mostly dark wood. She had balked at the color at first, but eventually came to think of it as cozy and inviting, if not mysterious. Kind of like Will himself. 

Molly adjusted the strap of her sling. She was ready to be done with it. The edges dug into her neck more often than she would like. She was busy slipping it over her head and tucking it away when the dogs started barking. She looked out the front window and watched as a rental car pulled into the driveway. Feeling a wave of emotions, Molly steadied herself, took a deep breath, and went to the front door.

**

“I know it’s a little different from what we’re used to, but—”

“—it’s great, Molly.”

Seeing Will in their new home, Molly realized just how much the bare white walls resembled the inside of a hospital. “It’s closer to town than we’re used to, but I figured maybe it’d be better to try something different. You know, this way in case we ever needed anything, we wouldn’t have to go far—”

“Is it easy for Wally to get to school from here?”

“Wha— yeah, yes actually,”Molly smiled. “Much easier.”

“Good.”

“I don’t know where I’m going to be working yet, but wherever I end up—”

“—Molly.”

“Yeah?”

“You don’t have to explain,” Will stepped in closer. “If this feels like the right place, if it feels safe, and you and Wally both like it, then it’s the best place for us.”

The knuckles in Molly’s hand cracked as she released the edge of the kitchen counter. She frowned, the ache echoing up her bad shoulder.

“Does it still hurt?” Will asked, leaning in to place his hand against her hip.

“Of course it hurts, Will. I was shot.”

Will’s hand stilled on the dip of her hip. “No, you’re right, I’m sorry.”

Molly bit back the ‘it’s okay,’ that threatened to fall past her lips.

It wasn’t okay.She had been shot, wracked with pain, her husband was battered and torn, and her son’s life completely uprooted. None of this was ‘okay’.

She just wasn’t sure if it was Will’s fault.

He had warned her, even if he hadn’t used those exact words. When Jack Crawford showed up on their doorstep, he tried to tell her. And what had she said?

_You may be different, but I won’t._

It was a stupid, naïve thing to say, but here they were.

“You don’t have to apologize to me, okay? I think we’re both carrying our fair share of penance,” she said, glancing her hands across his shoulders, careful not to put any pressure on his chest wound.

“Ever the good Catholic,” Will mumbled as he leaned into press his cheek to the side of her neck.

Molly laughed, the sound bouncing loudly off the kitchen walls. She felt Will smile against her skin and she breathed him in deeply, reveling in his scent.

“Don’t say that too loud,” she said as she pulled in closer.

“Are you worried God might hear you?”

“No, but the Devil might.”

So close to her ear,Molly could hear Will’s sharp breath before he held her even tighter.

* * *

Will turned on the bathroom faucet, letting the sound of the water soothe his nerves as the water heated. He should be tired. Though Meeting Molly’s mother and seeing Wally had gone well enough, flying always racked Will’s nerves. Being in an enclosed tube hurtling through the sky as people surrounded him in varying stages of anxiety would do that to a person. But as he leaned against the counter, his body felt alert, as if he was preparing for a fight.

“Stop,” he whispered to himself. There was nothing to be afraid of. The threat had passed. They were safe now.

Will bent over, picking up his duffle bag as he pulled out his toiletries, placing them in the medicine cabinet one by one. It wasn’t until he felt the cool, hard metal at the bottom of the bag that he realized what he was looking for. There it was, buried at the bottom of his meager luggage, still wrapped neatly in the sealed evidence bag. 

He placed the evidence bag on the smooth countertop, unsure what to do next. Minutes ticked by as the water poured from the faucet, filling his head with the steady sound. This was silly, Will told himself. It was just a regular pocket knife, just like any other he had held before.

But something inside him knew that this wasn’t the same. This knife had rent his flesh. This knife had slain a dragon. This knife—

Will ripped open the bag and let its contents fall into his palm. He turned it over in his hand, the weight a satisfying burden. He held it up, allowing the bathroom light to bounce off the smooth surfaces and catch on the rough ones. There was nothing special about it. Just a hunk of metal and plastic. Just a stupid piece of—

_This is all I ever wanted for you, Will._

Will let the knife fall from his hands, the sound of the hard material crashing onto the floor echoing off the walls as he scrambled after the stolen evidence.

“Are you okay, babe?” Molly’s voice called a moment before she cracked open the door. Will placed his foot on the fallen knife, grateful that it was closed.

“Yeah, I’m fine, just clumsy.”

“Oh, okay,”

“Sorry, I know I shouldn’t let it run,” he stammered, as he shut off the faucet.

“Take as much time as you need,” Molly said as her lips turned into a smile. “Just let me know if you need anything. Or can’t find anything,” she said as she closed the door.

As soon as the door closed, Will lifted his foot off of the knife and picked it up, placing it back in the bottom of his duffel bag.

“Are you okay, babe?” Molly asked as a freshly showered Will slid under the sheets in their darkened bedroom, careful to avoid pulling at his stitches.

“Of course, I’m fine. Just don’t move around as well as I used to,” he chuckled.

“Right, right… Of course. I should have drawn you a bath or—”

“—no. No, it’s fine. Really, Molly. It’s still hard to get comfortable at night, laying down, but it’s just pain. It’ll pass,” Will said as he turned to his wife. He wanted to drape his arm around her, pull her in close, like they used to when they would lie in bed, but laying on his side was still too painful. For now, just being this close in the same bed was enough.

“Didn’t they give you anything for the pain? So you could sleep?”

“Don’t worry about me. I have everything I need,” Will said as he laid on his back and let their legs touch beneath the sheets.

Molly sighed, her eyes starting to close. “Good… God, I’m so happy that you’re home, Will.”

“Me too,” Will said into the darkness before leaning in to press a kiss on her lips. “Me too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for stopping by. Next update: Hannibal


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